In true trip-aftermath, I have spent most of my day pondering the events that occurred in the past 5 days while I was in Chicago for Lollapalooza. Although there is much to rant about, only certain subjects are ok for the public eyes and as such here are some of the more ok things for me to discuss, I will share them bit by bit as I imagine this week will be quite slow and the memory of vacations past will keep me up and at em.
Dear Max,
I remember your name because, unlike you, I was not reeling (or was it rolling? I don't remember what you called it exactly- raging?) on MDMA since noon. Do you remember me? You called me the prettiest girl at Lolla- was that a lie Max? Did you wake up sweating out chemicals from your ass and think of my face?
Did you catch a great picture of the sweat on my upper lip and my hair that had matted into one giant dreadlock tucked up into my fedora? Was it the beer on my jeans that got your blood boiling Max?
Max, you should know that while it was hilarious to watch your tall friend carry my short friend on his back to see the show, and while it was nice to meet your other friend from Australia who had come in just to jam out to Coldplay with you guys, that it was not as nice to make your acquaintance.
MDMA? really? At Coldplay? Did you peak out during "Fix you"?
But fine, I allow you to conduct yourself as you see fit- want to do E, oh sorry, MDMA? Go for it. I wouldn't say that just because you did it, it is necessary to tell me and everyone around you 800 times. Nor is it really necessary to watch the whole show through 3D glasses (the show was not 3D) and pass them over to me urging me to wait for a good flash of light. Um, I pass.
There is just something about young American guys that they want to always be wearing beaters and giving everyone high fives. obviously you were no exception to that rule. I was only shocked that you had not popped your collar and whipped out some chapstick.
Oh and just because you are on drugs and don't care, doesn't mean anyone needs to have your arm around them- it is 1000 degrees and we are all rammed into one another- isn't that enough?
But of course Max, you thought you were very charming didn't you? You thought that we were all just hanging on to your every word as you shrieked nonsense into our ears.
I was the opposite of charmed until you puled your final move because nothing says sexy quite like hurling an half full glass mickey of gin at the crowd. MMMMM. I can only fantasize that you gave some innocent fan a concussion. HOT.
Oh Max, you truly represent everything I hate about boys- and I emphasize the BOYS-not men part, and concerts. Is it not possible to just listen to good music with friends without having some sweaty, jacked up asshole in your grill?
Well Max, hope you had a great rest of your time at Lolla- oh and PS. sorry we ditched your ass the second you looked away- not sorry at all.
xo
Jane
As a side note, how good is Coldplay live? I was so unenthused to see them but they are seriously fantastic
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